A Collection of Short Stories
by POAwildcat
Summary: One player's experience at HHS. This isn't just marching band, but rather a bit of everything. I tried to select some of the funnier and/or stranger stories :)
1. A Bassoonist escaped into the real world...

Author's Note: Okay, these are just random band stories or rants that I remembered while sitting outside waiting for math class (why do all these ideas occur before Calculus and not English is anyone's guess). Anyway, these have no real story line other than they all occurred my senior year of high school.  
  
AN2: This particular part was based off of a certain ex-band student's essay that I read (and found hilarious, too bad I can't remember most of it). Enjoy!  
  
There has been rumors that band is a cult. Well now, that depends on your definition of a cult. I've read the confession of one nameless band member who had escaped the life of band and is now assimilating herself into 'normal' society. She claimed that it was. Our band director was always playing music when we walked in for class. Now this wouldn't be unusual except that it was the same CD (and usually the same song). This ex-bassoonist believed that there were subliminal messages encoded in that music. "Band is fun!" "Band will be your life!" "There is nothing but band!" Even I know that our director played that CD over and over again because we never made it all the way through it. You get 50 some people into a room and the roar alone is enough to drown out the loudest of sounds. Besides, if this was really true, I see nothing wrong with it :). Either way, its her loss. She's one of those who just didn't get it. Band IS life, and we band geeks know why!  
  
In my high school, our band room was the old cafeteria. Thus, we had the largest band room that anyone had ever seen. Both our concert bands of about 50+ could face each other in concert arcs. This also includes room enough for an audience of 20 and the percussion instruments (who were practically pressed up against the "cages"). Now they have a new band room that is very nice. I, however, liked the old room (but that could be because my class was the last class to spend all 4 years in it). There were many wonderful memories there, which I'll be sharing with you now. Then perhaps you can decide whether my friend the ex-bassoonist was correct in her claims. 


	2. Of Parking, Annoying Trombones and Elect...

AN: In case anyone was wondering, I will be jumping back and forth from three of my four years in HS (most of us don't speak about Frosh year due to the fact the band director was one of the many that band had gone through each year).  
  
  
  
The band room; the center of many of our lives (not including the football practice field :) ). It must be the community center of the band world. My mother always found it amusing when she looked at my schedule and saw that every other class occurred in the band room. So maybe 4 bands (in school that is, excluding marching and pep) could be considered a bit much. But at least I didn't participate in the beginning band that met during C block (I had Physics, so I couldn't join anyway). Anyway, I spent a great amount of time here both in class and after class. I've had meals in that room, held surprise birthday parties, played games, slept and stayed up all night in there, oh and of course, we played in there.  
  
Jazz Ensemble I, Early Bird, 6:45. Course we had to be there at 6:30 for personal warm-up and spend some quality time with the plunger mute. Most people when I tell them I go to an early bird class look at me with pity (or think I'm insane). I on the other hand, see it to be a wonderful thing for two main reasons. One was that parking at my school was impossible. You might be lucky to park within 2 or 3 blocks from the school (nice 15 min run in the morning doesn't sound good to me especially if you have to do it more than once because you forgot your name tag). Being in Jazz Band, we were there before even some of the teachers! Parking was plentiful for us. All vehicles parked on the street near the band room were always jazz members. I could almost identify everyone's car since we almost always parked in order. Then of course there's the communication system between parked cars when someone finds out that jazz was cancelled. A peacefully slumbering trombonist has his seat laid back when suddenly BANG BANG BANG. He jerks up to see a saxophone knocking on his window. In the car ahead of them, a trumpet player looks back and notices the two people banging on car windows as they work their way up the line. This trumpet player (me!) groans, but I get out of the car before they bang on my window. A few others followed my example while that trombonist returned to his nap (hopefully he didn't miss A-block). There were a few other band members sitting outside the band room (at the inside entrance). After informing them of the cancellation and after various cursing of "why must I get up so …. early if he doesn't show up!"  
  
This however was a rarity (to some this wasn't nearly enough). The second reason was that jazz always seems to wake me up. If the music didn't, the trombones did. They were always rarin' to do something (generally this didn't include playing music); whether it was to see who could play the highest, or who could irritate the trumpets the first. Being on the end as 4th trumpet, I was only bothered by 4th trombone, a freshman that was too good for his own good. It was 3rd trumpet and I who usually kept "the baby" (being the only frosh in the group) in line. This was easily accomplished by a swift kick of his chair (we were standing on risers, thus making us able to kick the back of his chair much easier). Other than this, jazz was a great experience, full of wonderful moments… "Play louder!!" yelled out band director on several occasions. Yeah, I'll play louder when I gain a third lung, was my thought. So I'm a quiet trumpet, is there a problem with this? (and you thought we didn't exist!) Apparently, my band director thought this was a problem and he constantly yelled for more (or at least it felt like it). Either he gave up on this or I managed to play loud enough for him (I suspect the first). Perhaps it was a good thing we were in need of trumpets and that he seemed to like me (otherwise I would have never made it into this audition only group).  
  
Sectionals… my first real experience at being in a small enclosed room with brass players. I, being a flute player who desperately wanted to play jazz, chose the trumpet. I quickly learned that in the absence of a band director, brass players, or at least trumpets, can and will find something to occupy their attention for the entire time. There were only two female trumpet players (including myself) in the section of 5, thus I spent most of the time with her (that and we shared the same music. Because_of this, we became quick friends). "Hey look what I found!" Our section leader said excitedly. We had been given the band director's office for the sectional. He pulled out one of those needle things that will take the shape of whatever you push against it (I can never remember what those things are called). I looked over at my fellow female trumpet player and shook my head. Yeah, it was a real productive sectional.  
  
My senior year (and still 4th trumpet) we got to go to the Lionel Hampton Jazz Competition at the University of Idaho. I've been there multiple times for camps, so I was very familiar with the campus (except that side with the Kibbie Dome). At this time, we had three female trumpet players on the line (and we all stood next to each other, which was never a safe thing. Being a flute player I never knew how much fun it was to sit in the back!) I have no idea why, but the three of us were wandering around campus bored. We were supposed to meet at the Kibbie Dome at a certain time in order to get ready for that evenings concert. We ended up there about 2 hours early. Therefore, we decided to walk around the Dome until it was time to go in. Now this Dome is not small and its up hill and down hill if one were to walk around it. About the second time around, our "friend" the 4th trombone showed up… We have no idea where he keeps coming from but no matter where we were that entire weekend; he always managed to find us. So, he joined us in our trek (we allowed him to stay because he offered us fruitloops). On one of these loops around, we walked past an embankment (with snow piled up) and over the top of it was some kind of a wire fence. "Look, its an electric fence!" I told the trombone player. "Really?!" "Yeah why don't you touch it" The Junior trumpet player said. Both the Sophomore trumpet player and Frosh bone looked at the fence. I figured they knew I was bluffing; I mean come on, the "fence" was touching the snow and rocks. The Frosh carefully walked up to it and reached out a tentative hand. The Soph trumpet did the same and she jerked back with a startled yelp scaring the living daylights out of the bone player who had at the same time sunk into the snow pile. All three of us trumpet players nearly doubled over laughing while the bone kept looking at the fence cautiously. Shaking our heads, we left him as he reached over and touched it. "Hey that was not funny!" He yelled after us once he realized we were pulling his slide. Got to love frosh trombone players :) 


	3. Symphonic Band: where trombones are not...

Symphonic Band. This was the class our band director dreaded. Mainly the band was made up of lower classman and a few upper classman who either didn't make it into Wind Ensemble, or didn't want to. This class was always hard to keep under control.  
  
"Watch this!!" A trombone cried as he excitedly showed anyone watching how to send his tuning slide into orbit.  
  
The tenor sax next to me would shake her head as the trombone's were absorbed in the science of "shooting" off their tuning slides (this also involved catching the slides before it hit the ground). The T-sax and I were in this band only because we didn't want to take another class during the split hour (B-block was Symph and Wind Ensemble) and we both wanted to play a different instrument. She was originally an alto sax, but I was a bit more adventurous. I was learning how to play bassoon (which is one of the coolest instruments, other than flute of course :) ). Sadly, I only played on song on it. Symph band only had 3 trumpets which is quite pathetic for a 60 something member band. I ended up playing trumpet by the first concert. The good thing was that I had a really cool second trumpet part. The bad thing was that I was closer to the trombones. Now you might think I hate the trombones, but I really don't. I like trombones, but those at my school did nothing to prove the intelligence of the trombone "species".  
  
"Whoa! That one went backwards!!" Did I mention these were freshmen? The trombonist leaped from his chair to chase after his slide.  
  
I sighed and looked over at first chair (she was the Soph trumpet in the previous chapter). She shared my opinion of trombones. Any section that sings Vegetales during football games should be watched very closely (but at a safe distance). The second chair trumpet was warming up. He was only a freshman and new to the experience of high school: the poor boy. I hope they haven't corrupted him. I sat third chair (next to first chair) and to my right was another frosh… when he showed up that is. So basically, we still only had 3 trumpet players when I moved off bassoon and joined the trumpets.  
  
There was this one piece that we played at the end of the year Pops Concert that the two bands were combined. Being in Wind Ensemble as well, I ended up going back and forth between trumpet and flute when we were playing songs that were both combined pieces and Symph only pieces. The piece in question was "Dinosaurs" by Daniel Bukvich (cool song by the way, and a great composer). There was one part in the song that called for wine glasses.  
  
"Hey look! Cups with water in them!!" Shouted a tuba player (the trombonists were just staring at them).  
  
"Do not touch!" Immediately yelled an upperclassman, knowing that disaster would be sure to follow if they were allowed to touch the glass objects.  
  
Turns out that flutes, clarinets and trumpets get to "play" the wine glasses. However, due to a shortage of glasses, only the flutes and clarinets got them. (Only the Wind Ensemble trumpets complained about this, but Symph trombones on the other hand…) "How come we don't get to play them?!"  
  
"Because you guys are playing." A flute player sitting across from me said back to them.  
  
"No trouble! We can do both!" Offered that 4th jazz trombone as he attempted to demonstrate using an imaginary glass.  
  
Everyone merely nodded slowly. Sure you can. Needless to say, only flutes and clarinets got the wine glasses. The trombones however forgot about this set back once they discovered their part called for very loud noises (which were the brontosaurs I believe). Easily amused (but at least they forgot about the wine glasses). 


	4. So our concert band is a marching band a...

Wind Ensemble was one of the classes I looked forward to each day (other than Jazz). We had a good group of people who, for the most part, cared about being there. One of the major bonuses was that the trombones were nice in this band (our poor baritone player was the one to be picked on by the others). This was also the band where I actually played the flute (not including the times I played flute in jazz band).  
  
This particular "rant" has to deal with my senior year's Large Group Contest. For some strange reason everyone believes that the jazz bands and the concert bands at HHS are actually marching bands (apparently we are too loud for indoor judges' tastes), while the marching band has been called a concert band (I don't think judges' like us). The W.E. played two songs, "Deerpath Dances" and "Overture in B flat". Neither one of these songs is exactly slow (especially if in rehearsal we play Deerpath at "Go Daddy-O" tempo :) ). After we had finished, playing the judge basically told us that we sounded like a marching band. He then went on to say that we were too loud, not dramatic enough and didn't play the quiet sections quiet enough (of course most of us have yet to find where the quiet parts are of those two songs). The only good quality of this judge was that he admitted we played Deerpath well even if (and this is pretty much what he said) it was like being pressed back into your seat for the entire piece. Otherwise, we were pretty upset with him. Yes, he may have been right in many cases… but it was how he told us. He might as well have told us we stunk and left the stage. We weren't the only band to feel his "wraith". A band that had been before us (a very tiny band of 20) had been informed they sounded like a combination of a marching band and a bad pep band.  
  
Now the strangest thing of all, was this particular judge loved the Symphonic Band. We couldn't believe our ears that this was the same judge. We had played two movements from "Suite from Bohemia" (1st and 4th for anyone who wishes to know). Although he tore apart the Wind Ensemble (luckily he was the only judge to give us a lower score), he did comment on how well the trumpets played in Symph band (a quick five exchanged between myself and first chair after that comment).  
  
Well, since I'm on the topic of judges I might as well include two other stories (both marching band tales). The first one is fairly short and occurred my freshman year (yes I did say I wasn't going to say anything about it, but this is the only one that is interesting). We had a drill writer from another school (another state too, though most people seem to think I live in Washington instead of Oregon anyway). He seemed to have this thing with geometric shapes and amoebas (course, I don't think there really is much else one can do, but this is basic stuff, nothing compared to what the Pride does). Anyway, during band camp, a group of people from Eastern Washington University including the drill writer taught us the drill (since our new band director didn't seem to care about the marching band anyway. Luckily, he left and we got our current band director my Soph year). A few months later, we were at our first competition (and we actually had the entire show done). We did a decent job I suppose (we marched an Elvis show with a random drum fill of Wipe Out thrown in because the show was too short) and we were all excited to hear the judicial tapes. "Good afternoon HHS, this is Patrick Winters and I will be judging overall visual…" We all froze and looked at each other. "Did he just say he was…" An alto next to me whispered. Yes, our adjudicator was our drill writer. "What if he calls us by name!!" A clarinet asked in horror. "I doubt it, this was the same guy who referred to people as 'hey you in the hat' during marching band camp," I told her. Even though we were a bit worried that he'd be harsh on us, since he knew the drill, it turned out to be an amusing tape. "Oh I remember that part." Or, "It's all coming back to me now." Thus having your drill writing adjudicate isn't always a bad thing :).  
  
Second story actually didn't occur in my time with the Marching Bulldogs. I think it was either the year prior or the year before that. There was this one move in that year's show where several large circles were formed on the field and then collapsed inward to form compact ones that spun around. At the competitions, we went to, we had field adjudicators who actually wandered amongst the band as they performed (a bit scary to be marching past and there is a judge standing right in front of you!). One particular judge apparently was so busy making comments that he didn't notice he had wandered into the middle of a large circle. Well, as he was working his way out, the band students suddenly closed in on him. The judge was now trapped inside this circle of swirling band members. I can just see it in someone's story, "Band members are finally fed up with judges and plot revenge." 


End file.
